


Irons and Sugars

by AllHailProHeroThirteen04102016



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Angst, Gen, Internal Monologue, Isekai, OC is an evil scientist who got killed via accident, POV Female Character, Reincarnation, Sad Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, bodysnatching, same oc as usual: Emily, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28027770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHailProHeroThirteen04102016/pseuds/AllHailProHeroThirteen04102016
Summary: She was too out of it to notice until pain then she woke up as not herself.Emily doesn't understand why people kept calling her another name, but it perhaps has something to do with the haze of memories of an older, crueler woman and the taste of blood in her mouth.
Kudos: 6





	Irons and Sugars

**Author's Note:**

> I've been feeling sad lately. Like, bad kind of sad. It's awful. Soooooo
> 
> Warning: Explicit attempts at suicide. Suicidal thoughts. Lotsa crying.

It had been one of those days.

The days where she'd stand at the side of the road while waiting for a bus with her little barrio's main roads written on it, staring into space. Or that's what people around her would say: her head was up in the clouds. Daydreaming about something silly again, most likely.

If it wasn't those days, they'd be right. Emily was the type to daydream about what she'd draw, the fanfics and original stories she'd write once she got home, what would she eat if there's no one at home who knew how to cook again. Maybe have some minor flashbacks about cringe things or just humorous things that would leave her snickering or groaning to herself, a habit that simply served to rile up rumors about her weirdness.

Brown eyes, hazy and unfocused, stares at the road, imagining walking there and

_crash_

The imagery of an accident, (how she'd imagine) the sound of metal and flesh colliding painfully, was a sweet siren call to her imagination.

Maybe her body wouldn't be so bloody? Or she'll get hit all wrong and she'll bleed all over the concrete, her pink/white bones jutting out. Maybe she'll just end up all broken on the inside with no evidence on the outside.

Tempting, tempting, tempting.

The traffic light goes red. People cross.

Her hand twitched.

_I am in control._

She will not die. She does not _want_ to die, even if going through the motions every day is getting more tiring.

Green.

The cars continue.

She controls her breath. Calm down. No, there's nothing to calm, the issue was that she was _too_ calm. This is confusing, this teenage angst.

Her jaw clenched.

She'll just have to get over it.

Red.

Her bus is on the other side. (What the heck.)

She crosses the pedestrian lane and in a split second she heard the beginning of people crying out, the person next to her trying to grab her arm--

It was all over in a split second.

Then she woke up.

Pristine white walls and white ceilings.

She was on her back, for some reason. Things haven't processed in her brain yet, so she sits up and looks around the...building she's in.

Everything was unfamiliar. It's messy, and it's not an organized kind of mess she'd find herself at home in. Spilled chemicals and a few scorch marks there, and she learned to avoid that one room because it was a freezer for parts of a human body, butchered and hung.

Everything was on routine, whatever she's doing.

This was probably a dream, she'd think. Because she's building something, it looked like a trap, and then she'd moved on to a large machine she'd see in those weekday shows she used to watch when she was younger. Simple times.

She's even more reassured that she's dreaming, because there was an animal in a hat(?) barging in and ended up getting in the trap and stripped of weapons in a split second. There was a clang of metal and iron when the machines had placed the weapons somewhere around a corner.

Then she started monologing. Wow.

Her mouth was really moving on its own, she doesn't remember what she's saying, but it felt pretty silly and, well, a little evil. She didn't even know swans can look disgusted.

The little agent escaped from the prison before she could even see what the machine would do. It explodes. Somehow. Doesn't make much sense to her.

What really shocked her wasn't the swan using a damn glider to fly away from the chaos like he was _Link_ or something, no, it was when the shrapnel had struck her cheek, made her bleed, made her feel _pain_.

The next day, she's still there.

She looks in the mirror. Instead of pitch black hair, she got dark green ones. Instead of brown, she got a confusing color of either blue or grey. Instead of her morena skin, she's pale.

She screams.

It's a week.

Did she die.

She's making machines to pass the time. Whenever she'd go out to shop, she'd see weird strangers (with an intelligent glint in their eyes despite eccentricities) greeting her happily and boasting about her izers, inators, and their nemesis. Emily goes with the flow, ignores the fact that they're calling her by this woman's name.

They were frowning. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I have," she said. "All I've been eating is steaks and stews."

All she's been eating is meat nowadays. 

Animal meat.

This body didn't like the high-carbs diet of an Asian, and she can't bring herself to force it when she's still dealing with spies and bugs her machines kept informing her of.

They're still frowning.

When she gets home, she'd get mailed a mystery meat.

_Word got around you're trying to turn a new leaf! We fully support you!_

_-L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N._

_PS: Try to balance the animal and human meats. Don't just eat only animal meats immediately!_

It ends up in the trash.

(Yet, her mouth tastes like iron all the same.)

She ends up in an existential crisis when she realized that a)she had no one, b)life was boring and weird somehow, c)the city she was in was called Danville with a Doof mayor, d)she wasn't really liked, other evil scientists just didn't want to become her next meal, and e)she _did_ die. And somehow fucked it up like most things she'd try.

**_T r y_ **

**_A g a i n ?_ **

She has a nice, tall building. Emily was unable to die properly, and whoever thus body belonged to was clearly a bad person.

Which explained why the "secret agent" after her had a hat with a red band. It's one of those agents who are authorized to kill her.

Emily ends up sitting on her sofa, with a bunch of items-that-can-kill-her on her table. She even labeled them, complete with potential and plans.

She eyed the gin and the bottle of pills.

The bottle of pills go untouched, and she gets drunk as hell. Drunk enough to try to have a conversation with a goddamn pigeon on her balcony. She's reminded that alcohol can cause dehydration and gets water.

Speaking of balconies, it turns out she has a nice, big building. The body's person, Felicia Gagliardo, had many nice things but did _this_ instead. Left the bodysnatcher hazy memories that turned sharp and real in her dreams and left her vomiting in a trash can next to her bed.

She goes to the highest point and stands on the ledge.

Not her finest moment.

But the city looked _beautiful._ All bright lights and eccentric people doing a bunch of weird things with high tech despite it being only 2007.

It looked absolutely nothing like her barrio.

Emily misses her family.

She hiccuped, holding her face in embarrassment only to be shocked by tear tracks. Fudge, she didn't even realize she was crying.

Suddenly, every single emotion she'd been holding in for a good two weeks burst and she is mortified to find herself drowning enough misery for her crying to become uncontrollable. Thank goodness the entire building was private property and that cameras can't record her in HD from this high up.

Denial became anger, and all that is left is the empty ache in her chest that wouldn't fill even when she filled it with sunshine. Her own tears wouldn't even be enough for that either. That's how messed up she was.

All it took was for her foot to slip

and

she's

falling

She wakes up on her balcony.

Emily thinks it was a dream, until she saw her shoes near the ledge. She can't help it; she laughs. Laughs because she was a fucking joke.

"I can't even succeed _dying_!" She howled, tears running down her puffy face. "God, this was so pathetic! Why am I _here?!_ "

She ended up screaming more obscenities at the heavens above, before breaking down into tears, clawing at herself. The lightest blush of dusk over the blue sky offered no comfort, much less mercy, much less answers.

Emily doesn't notice the white feathers on a couple of cactus plants.

Emily mixes up a bunch of plants to create the perfect poison.

A painless death.

Car accidents aren't painless. Cutting her wrist isn't painless. Drinking bleach wasn't painless. Drinking sleeping pills and gin isn't guaranteed to be painless -- she has to be asleep for that to work, and death makes her to jittery to sleep. A bullet through the head isn't an instant death, with the metal in her skull...that was there for some reason. Who is she trying to be, Uncle Ford?

So painless poison it was.

Unknown to her, a Stephan the Swan was talking to a platypus about sad nemesis.

"She used to be easier to deal with," he sighed, a frustrated hoot slipping out. "Angry and being horrible all the time. Now she just...gave up. This should make my job easier, right?"

Perry let out a low trill. Sad evil scientists aren't new, neither were ones that had little to no self-preservation, but what _was_ new was a notoriously disgusting human actively seeking out death to the point an agent had to rescue them outside of their job schedule.

"Ever tried to listen to their backstory?"

Stephan tried.

Sadly, Emily didn't remember enough of Felicia's old memories, just feelings. And the reincarnating bit was complicated.

"Hey, ugly duckling. Does your agency clean up crime scenes?" She asks, thoughtful as she poured a suspicious chemical into her mug. Stephan the Swan, tied up like it was going to slaughter, gave it a suspicious look. He concluded that it must be _horrendously_ bitter if she needs to put heaping amounts of sugar in it. "Where do they bury the bodies? I need to know for, you know, _science._ "

The swan made that weird, ugly noise again. Emily cringed. "Ugh." Then she raises the mug, and the swan flailed even harder when it got near him.

Felicia was infamous for her poisons. She usually mixes all kinds of chemicals to find a way to tenderize human meat easier. She wants to eat Stephan.

But then Felicia laughed. "Oh, this isn't for you!"

Then she drank the entire thing in one go. She wipes her mouth and gives him a sheepish grin.

"Pardon the potential trauma you'll get. Just didn't want to die alone." She explained lightheartedly. Like she isn't saying something unbelievably sad, like she didn't look vulnerable and too much like a chickading that strayed far away from its brood.

Agent Carl, who has been watching through a bodycam, is calling for backup, for the trained medics and poison experts. Animals that had poisons that could possibly counteract that.

But it was too late.

Her eyes glaze over and she lies down to sleep.

Doctor Felicia Gagliardo was a cannibal who ate humans for the sake of eating humans, and for a sick kind of revenge when she'd eat the literal flesh of her enemies.

She looked tired, but peaceful.

Stephan was shaken, unable to process the traumatizing event of witnessing someone take their own life in front of him. Some would celebrate, some would quietly contemplate on her humanity and hypocrisy, some would be reminded of the mortality of their seemingly unstoppable nemesis.

She doesn't affect canon, not one bit, but she does get the OWCA and the evil scientists more concerned about mental health and providing therapy.

Doofenschmirtz gets therapy, his monologuing is useful in therapy, they all learn something new about themselves, and his personal relationships improve as a result.

So that's a plus.

**Author's Note:**

> Weirdly satisfying to write this.


End file.
